


i'll take what's mine

by grootmorning



Category: The Gifted (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Cunnilingus, F/M, Gladiator!John, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, concubine!clarice, i don't even know when this is set exactly, this has been very gratuitous i am not sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-15 20:24:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15420882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grootmorning/pseuds/grootmorning
Summary: AU. Clarice is John's prize for the night.





	i'll take what's mine

**Author's Note:**

> i had a really vivid dream, okay? that's my only defence for this.

John roared his victory cry at the crowd, raising his arms at the equally loud crowd in thanks before bowing to the royal dais and retreating back into the caverns behind the arena. Finally behind the scenes, he let his head drop, silently following the attendant leading him to his rooms for the night. This was his reward for winning the fight before returning to the pits to train once more. A pittance compared to freedom. But he would take what he could get.

The room was beautiful, as always, opulent and dripping in extravagance. John hardly saw it. It never amazed him anymore. The attendant raised a lazy arm, pointing to where John could bathe and get clean, before resting for the night. It was a nasty process, getting the blood, gore and sand off him. But John was always thankful for a warm bath. It reminded him that he was alive.

Securing his loin cloth around his waist, John stepped back into the room only to stop in his tracks, blinking in surprise and slight wariness. His body shifted, preparing for a fight.

He was not alone.

She stood from where she had been sitting at the edge of the wide bed, her dress fluttering lightly around her as she did. If it could be called a dress, it was laughably so. The long panels of material hung down, revealing almost everything when she moved. The sheer material was cut high up on her thighs, revealing creamy skin and long slim legs, and in at the waist. It covered what was necessary, but barely, since the material was thin enough that John could see the curve if a breast, the hint of a navel.

His mouth went dry.

“Congratulations on your victory, brave warrior,” she said quietly, her eyes fixed in the ground between them. “The great king is very pleased with you, and has sent one of his concubines to please you today, and to use as you wish.”

She was all his, for tonight? Already, John could feel the blood rushing towards his nether regions, and his hands shook a little. She was very attractive, and being a gladiator slave didn’t offer much free time for other pleasures. He really couldn’t be blamed for basic bodily functions. That was his defence and he was sticking to it.

“Please tell the king,” John had to clear his throat once or twice to speak, and he thought he saw the hint of a smirk on her face. That was very interesting “I am very honoured by this gift and greatly pleased.”.

“What would you have me do, great warrior?”

John walked forward, raising a hand to trace a finger across the collarbones her gilded collar exposed. She shivered at the touch, but remained still. John had heard about the training concubines received. To be meek, to obey man’s every whim, to serve.

“Is the king pleased with you?”

“Very. But not always.”

“Why so?”

“Because sometimes, I...disobey,” she lifted her chin, in a small act of defiance.

So that’s why she had been chosen out of the harem to serve him. It was to be a punishment for her, to have to be with a gladiator slave. The degradation from a royal concubine to serving someone not worthy. But she didn’t seem displeased. She seemed to be eyeing him with some interest. John resisted the urge to preen. He knew he looked good. His body was well toned from fighting all his life, and his muscles, though not the biggest, were definitely admired by ladies he would pass in the marketplace. Seemed like she had a mind of her own. They would have some fun tonight.

“What is your name?”

“Clarice.”

“Take this thing off, Clarice.”

Slowly, she reached up to unbuckle the collar, holding his gaze as he stepped towards her. The long swathe of material fell away, revealing her svelte body. The sorry excuse for a dress did her body justice. John definitely liked what he saw. Clarice made no attempt to cover herself, standing tall as he looked at her, unashamed. He wanted all of her.

Surprising him, she put a small hand on his chest, pushing him backwards until he hit the wall, and sinking to her knees. “Let me serve you, great warrior.”

She moved to remove his loin cloth, but he gripped her chin with a firm hand, rough from handling weapons and shields, stopping her. Her eyes filled with surprise, and she looked up at him, questioning. Clarice was not used to men stopping her from doing ... what she was good at.

John tried to keep his voice even, but he felt the need to have her burning through him. He knew what she was trying to do, and it would be a lie to say that he didn’t want it too, but still, he said, “This is not what I want.”

Her eyes shuttered over immediately, turning blank and expressionless, “I am sorry to have displeased you. I will return and ask the king to send another - “

With a quick movement, John had pulled her to her feet, reversing their positions and sinking to his knees in front of her. He ignored her gasp, pressing her firmly back against the wall. Gripping a pale knee, he hooked it over his shoulder, leaning in to brush his cheek against her smooth inner thigh. The scent and feel of her skin inflamed him. He never wanted anything else more.

He took the time to simply look at her, spread open for him, pink and glistening with neatly cropped curls. Her breath hitched audibly. He eyed her, making sure she was looking at him as he whispered, “ _This_ is what I want.”

John pushed closer to her, burying his face in her folds, ignoring another gasp, as he pressed his lips to her core. There was a time to be gentle, he heard her make a sound of surprised pleasure. And there was a time to take what he wanted. Opening his mouth, he tasted her with his tongue, slipping between her folds to lick into her.

Clarice’s knees nearly buckled, and she had to focus to keep her eyes from rolling back into her head. Her shock was palpable and it took her a moment or two before she could process the way John was making her feel. She had never been offered pleasure. Pleasure had only been taken from her.

John knew this, and was determined that this beautiful creature that he had been given, was going to enjoy this as much as he was.

With the hand currently securing her knee to his shoulder, he hitched her knee further up, spreading her wider for him. Clarice keened at the slight burn in her thighs, the growing ache between her legs, her fingers scrabbling against the wall as her folds throbbed. She could see her fluids painting his mouth and dribbling down his chin. Why was the sight of him between her legs so erotic? He flicked his long dark hair behind him impatiently, diving back in to taste her.

He moaned against her, a low sound, the vibrations of his action sending tendrils of heat into the rest of her body, and pushing further into her with his tongue. A sharp jolt of pleasure speared through her. 

More.

Beyond reason, she pushed herself against him, opening herself more to his probing tongue. It shouldn’t be possible, she was already spread open so wide. But she had to try. She wanted more. More of him in her.

Reaching up to grab her hands, he placed them on his broad shoulders, in his hair. “You can touch me, if you want,” he pulled back to say simply before returning to devouring her.

There was the growing ache of a cramp forming along Clarice’s leg that was currently plastered to John’s back, but she couldn’t find the energy to care. Her knee was pushed almost to her belly, opening her up to John’s hungry mouth. If the cramp meant that she could stay in this position, so be it. She could hear herself pleading, begging for more, feel herself pulling at John’s dark hair, pressing his face closer to her. She couldn’t breathe. She felt like she couldn’t see. All she wanted was to come with his tongue in her. It went against everything she had ever learnt, was told to expect. Nothing else she had experienced would ever compare to this.

She heard herself swear as John released her, sitting back on his haunches to look at her with a smug grin on his face.

She wanted to slap it off his face. She wanted his mouth back on her.

If his hand hadn’t still been on her hip, pressing her firmly just where he wanted her, she might have slid bonelessly down to the ground. She was so close. Her knees felt so weak. Her hands fell listlessly from his hair, resting against her own belly, and they slowly drifted down to where she ached. She needed to touch herself, she needed to come.

Standing, John moved to crowd her body with his against the wall. He hitched her other knee against his hip, his other hand moving to work between her legs, dipping in and out of her with nimble fingers. Clarice nearly sobbed at the relief it brought her, fixing the dull ache that her arousal was growing in her lower belly. It hurt. The sheer want and need. Her hand was nearly clawing at his skin, clutching him to her, lifting up to her toes to get closer to him. She felt him stretch her with two fingers, and she whimpered, even as he added a third, curling them mercilessly inside her. The heat in her belly flared into a consuming flame. 

“I can’t I – “ The words tripped out of her, and she swallowed, shaking her head.

He ignored her. Thankfully. “Wouldn’t want you to get a cramp in that leg now, would we?” His teeth nibbled at her earlobe, biting a trail down her neck to her shoulders, leaving red marks and saliva along the way. He liked seeing the marks on her otherwise unblemished skin.  _Mine_ , a small possessive voice growled at the back of his head. 

Clarice cried out again as his finger crooked within her for the umpteenth time, holding him to her desperately as he bent his head to take a peaked nipple into his mouth. Her back slipped against the wall, but John simply readjusted his grip, hoisting her higher and taking her whole breast into his mouth. He released it with an almost obscene noise, going back in for her nipple. Rolling it between his teeth, John practically smirked as she dragged at him across her chest to give her other breast some attention. 

Ignoring her again, John dragged her chin up to his level, giving her a bruising kiss. He plunged his fingers back into her, his thumb pressing insistently against her clit. Swallowing her muted scream as she finally crested and came, John released her, smiling serenely as she tried to catch her breath. He adjusted himself discreetly.

Her fingers gripped onto his biceps, for she feared that if she let go, she would fall. Coming back to herself, she was almost ashamed at her wantonness. She raked a hand through her disheveled hair. “I – “

“My name is John,” he stroked her cheek with a rough thumb. “You can scream it later, sweet one.”

“Later? I don’t – “

With another yelp, Clarice found herself suddenly upside down, hoisted over John’s shoulder with no difficulty at all. He palmed himself in the short few steps he took to cross the room, relieving the ache he now felt. John wasn't sure if he would last long once he got inside her. He was so hard it almost hurt. And if he didn't come soon, he was pretty sure it would become a medical issue.

Clarice was placed surprisingly gently down onto the large bed, with no time to recover before John was on her again, stretching out over her and pressing her into the bed. His body, corded with muscle and with endless sunkissed skin, felt rough against her own. The scrape of his skin over hers had her arching up against him, wanting more of that delicious friction. Clarice wanted all of him. 

She lifted her hips a little to grind against him, smiling a little smugly as he groaned, dropping his head to her shoulder.

She allowed herself to touch him, to drag uncertain fingers across his sternum, his chest, his abs. To allowed herself to want.

“You’ve never had this, have you?” John whispered, nudging her legs to fall open wider as he fit himself between them. She had no more strength to move, and let him do as he pleased. "Never had pleasure so blinding you couldn't see?"

He was so broad, Clarice felt herself grow wet again, thinking that he could bend her in half easily.

She lifted her chin again, her body trembling with the effort, “Show me.”

He lowered his head to lick lazily at her chest, taking his time with it. Over her breasts, under it, pausing to give each nipple a teasing bite before moving on. John realised he really liked her neck, the pale smooth column on it. Tugging at her with his teeth, John soothed her with his tongue, laving over it even as she made tiny sounds of want.

Clarice was close to tears. It was all too much, and yet not enough. She could feel him everywhere, and yet not where it mattered most. She writhed under him, struggling to get him to make her feel like how she was before. Her hands dragged lower, and she whined as she realised that he was still clothed. The audacity of it.

She pulled at the material, desperately. Her thighs were still slick from her previous orgasm, she realised in a half daze, and she fought the tremors of her tired muscles, reaching down to pull it off him.

Where it was thrown to didn’t matter. She wasn't even sure if it was still in one piece. She could feel the weight of him, hot and heavy, against her slick thighs. A slim leg curled around his back, trying to press him down to where she throbbed. Clarice half sobbed as John pressed himself into her slowly, his back muscles flexing as he reached up to bite down between her breasts. The sweat between their bare skin proved slippery, and her hand slipped from his shoulder once or twice. She struggled to get her grip back.

If she let go, she was lost.

John buried his face in her neck, thrusting into her like he had all the time in the world, when truthfully, he felt like he was about to burst. A low growl escaped him as she threaded her fingers through his hair, tugging him back up to kiss his neck. His heart melted a little bit. Clarice felt amazing around him, and he thought that he was half in love with her. Maybe that was the arousal talking. But if it meant that he had to kill another hundred people to see her again, he would.

Her forehead was damp with perspiration, her hands bringing his to her breasts, clasping them there. “I need – “ 

“My name is John.”

“More. I can’t – “

“John.”

Shaking her off and framing her face in his hands, he made Clarice look at him, watch him as he thrust deep inside her. He watched her eyes glaze over, watched her mouth fall open in a silent plea, swallowed as their combined movements made her breasts rise and fall. With another sharp snap of his hips, his name ripped out of her in a cry. “John!”

It was music to his ears.

Rising to his knees, he pulled her to him by the hips, gripping just hard enough to bruise. He almost laughed at the familiar yelp she made. How was she still surprised after all they'd done? Placing a hand on her back to support her, John drew her up to face him. Her eyes still had that faraway look in them, like she was so turned on she couldn't really see.

Mission accomplished.

Her nails scratched down his back, hard enough to break the skin. John had to close his eyes and focus just for a bit. They opened again, and he grinned fiercely, biting down on her lip. A shaky breath pushed past her reddened lips.

“Ride me, sweet one. Show me how much you want me.”

Clarice wasn’t sure she could move, filled up with him, but she found the strength to rise onto her knees and grind down again. Again, and again, and again, and again. 

Her hands braced against his shoulders. His wrapped around her back, pressing her chest to his face, to that wonderful mouth that licked, sucked, bit her breasts.

For a few moments, there was no other sounds. Just him groaning, and her making small mewls that drove him crazy. Clarice was well fucked, in all senses of the word. Nobody else could and would compare. She was ruined.

Pushing the thoughts out of her head, Clarice dropped her head to kiss him roughly, drinking him in like it was the last time she was ever going to see him.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, looked into his eyes, and watched them even they grew darker with arousal, as her hips whipped them both into oblivion and into the dark of night.

**Author's Note:**

> this was very gratuitous, and if this felt ooc, i'm sorry. i'm also toying with the idea of creating a thunderblink pwp series. thoughts?
> 
> tumblr: [here](http://ltfrankcastle.tumblr.com)  
> twitter: [here](http://twitter.com/ltfrankcastie)


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